


The Last of the Avengers

by friendlyneighborhoodirondad



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Gen, I didn't mean for this to happen I swear, I hope, Infection, Zombies, author can't write action scenes, but it'll get better, last of us au, this is really sad omg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-05-04 12:53:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14593440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyneighborhoodirondad/pseuds/friendlyneighborhoodirondad
Summary: The world has gone to shit. Peter and Tony traverse the country to try and make it right.Did I mention there's zombies?The Last of Us AU





	1. Prologue

"No. No, you're wrong. That can't be right," Tony says with a lost look on his face. "Please, just... check again."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," the doctor says, dark bags under her eyes. "The virus is very aggressive as I'm sure you've seen on the news, and there's no cure or even a treatment plan. She probably has a couple of hours left. I'm very sorry, sir."

Tony shakes his head is disbelief. He rubs and hand over his facial hair. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be happening.

Oh god.

This can't be happening.

"Okay," he breathes. "Okay... Where is she?"

"A couple rooms over."

She drops him off by her room and leaves to give him some space. Tony takes slow steps to her side. She finally opens her eyes when she senses his presence. "...Tony?" Pepper mumbles, looking frail under the thick covers, IV lines, and an oxygen mask. "Wha'd the doctor say?"

"She uh... She said-" Tony stops abruptly and swallows a sob. "She said that uh... you're gonna be fine."

"No, she didn't," Pepper sighs, looking sadly at her fiance. "I'm dying, aren't I?"

Tony covers his watering eyes with a hand. "I'm... I'm sorry, Pep. They don't-"

"I know, honey. I know." She shifts up further on her bed, looking more dignified in the face of death than Tony has looked in his entire life. Tony leans over with outstretched arms, but Pepper shrinks back. "No, don't! I'm contagious."

"I don't care," he says, continuing his advances for a hug.

"Okay, but no kisses. The virus transmits through bodily fluids, so-"

"I don't care, I'm kissing my fiance."

"Tony, you have to care. You have responsibilities like Stark Industries, the Avengers, even Itsy Bitsy. You cannot get sick."

"But... I can't imagine a world without you," Tony whispers, tucking a stray lock of red hair behind her ear.

"Well, the universe has other plans. It'll be okay, honey."

"But I love you. So much. And I never got to marry you."

"It's okay... Just know that whatever happens, I love you too."

Tony huffs out a sob and collapses onto the chair next to the bed. "Pep... What am I gonna do? You were the perfect PA then CEO then fiance. Who's gonna keep my life in order for me when you're gone?" he jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

Pepper daintily sniffles and gently rubs his arm. "I don't know, darling. I just don't know."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tony sits outside the hospital on a metal bench. The sun has long since set, so the only light glistening off the tear tracks on his face comes from the florescent outdoor flood lights. He ran out of tears an hour ago. Everyone that passes by leaves him to sit in silence. With the high rate of infection of the virus, there are many in the same position. It seems that Earth has finally had enough of humanity. Tony has information the general public isn't privy to yet. The CDC has put this virus up with the likes of the Spanish Flu and the Bubonic Plague. Humanity's about to take a serious hit.

It's already lost Pepper.

"God... What am I gonna do?" he whispers to no one.

He's startled out of his reverie by No Doubt's "Spiderwebs". A flicker of hope flits through him for the first time since he heard the words "Cordyceps fungus".

Itsy Bitsy.

"Hey, Pete. What's up?" he says, trying not to let his voice wobble.

"Hey, Mr. Stark. I didn't mean to bother you, but, um, I'm a little worried about May."

All of Tony's woes are put to the side at the poorly hidden fear in Peter's voice. "What's wrong?"

"Well, um, it's probably nothing-"

"Kid, if you're worried about it, it's not nothing. So please continue before I call a suit and make my way to your apartment."

"Nonono, don't do that. It's just... May hasn't come home yet. And I know it's probably nothing, but she's not answering her phone. And then there's this whole virus thing with the riots and zombie sightings and-"

"Alright, alright, take a breath." Tony waits until he hears Peter shakily inhale. "I'm coming over, then we'll track her down together, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Mr. Stark. You're the best."

Tony huffs a laugh. "No problem, kiddo. I'll be there in a bit."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"So her phone is still charged, but she's not answering any of my calls or texts! There's definitely something wrong-"

"Pete, deep breaths."

"I don't think I can, Mr. Stark! May-"

"-Will be fine. Deep breaths."

Peter heaves a breath from the passenger seat.

"There you go. Friday says she's at the hospital still. She's probably taking an extra shift and forgot to text you. We'll check in just to make sure, okay?"

"Okay. Okay. Okayokayokayokay. It's okay."

Tony chuckles and reaches over to ruffle the kid's hair. His heart may be shattered, but the kid's dampening the hurt.

They turn onto the hospital's street, and Tony immediately wants to take Peter back to the apartment. "Uh, Mr. Stark? What's-?"

"I'm sure it's nothing, kid."

"Well, I don't think a freaking mob is nothing!"

"Okay, breathe deep-"

"Don't freaking tell me to breathe deep! My aunt might have been trampled to death, and you're sitting there telling me to calm down?!"

"She wasn't trampled to death. I'm gonna pull over right here, then go and check it out. You will stay right here. Right. Here. Understand?"

"Ugh, yes."

"Repeat it."

"I will stay right here."

"Here meaning that seat?"

"Here meaning this seat."

"Alright. Be right back."

Tony jumps out the car and makes his way around back to avoid the crowd. He uses Friday to hack through their security and wanders his way to the nurses' lounge. He pokes his head in to find three nurses sitting on a couch quietly, staring holes in wall. "Um, hi?" Tony says to get their attention.

None of them startle. They merely turn their heads to look at him. There's an empty look in their eyes. There's no reciprocated greeting.

"I'm looking for a May Parker?"

Two of them twist their heads back to look at the wall. The woman closest to him says, without emotion, "They shot her."

Tony feels a sharp stab in his already mangled heart. "Who shot her?" He has to know. For Peter's sake.

"Dr. Baffin on orders from the CDC."

"What? Why?"

"She was infected. She was beginning to show signs of heightened aggression. We have orders to kill the infected before they... turn."

Tony pauses and leans against the doorway before his knees give out. "What am supposed to tell her nephew?" he breathes, massaging his aching chest.

She doesn't respond. She just gives him a sad look.

Tony walks back to the car in a daze. Peter... The poor thing, orphaned twice before adulthood. God... Pepper would know what to do.

Peter perks up in his seat when he sees Tony approaching. The hopeful look in his eyes slowly transitions to one of fear. Tony's facial expression must not be reassuring. Peter doesn't say anything as Tony climbs into the driver's seat. It isn't until they're three blocks away that he speaks up. "Mr. Stark?"

Tony doesn't react.

"Where's May?"

Tony flicks on the turn indicator.

"Where's May?!"

Tony checks his mirrors.

"Mr. Stark! Where's MAY?!"

Tony just shakes his head. "Pete."

"Please just... just tell me! I can take it. Please." His voice wobbles at the end of the last word.

"I'll tell you when we get home."

"H-Home?"

"The compound. We need to get out of the city."

"What about...? So that means... May...?"

Tony swallows hard. "Yeah, kid. Yeah."

Peter's expression shatters. But he doesn't sob. Not yet. He just nods, a silent tear rolling down his cheek. And somehow the quiet acceptance is worse than the hysterical outburst Tony was expecting from the kid that tries to carry the world on his shoulders.


	2. Home

"What's up, Friday?"

"It would seem the ceiling is up, Master Parker."

"That's not what I meant-"

"I know. I was joking."

"Very funny."

"I thought so."

"Did Mr. Stark put you up to this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Mr. Stark reprogrammed you to mess around with me. Keep me distracted."

Friday remains silent.

"That's what I thought," Peter sighs. He rolls himself off the couch where he'd been laying for a couple hours bored out of his mind. He makes his way down to the lab where Mr. Stark was currently working on... what looks like some kind of weapon. "Mr. Stark, I'm booored," he whines as he passes through the door.

"You know the deal, kid," Mr. Stark says, not looking away from his work. "The compound is safe and fungus free. No one comes in or out. Neither of us gets sick."

Peter sighs and drops onto a stool near Mr. Stark's work station. It's been three months since... May... The world has gone to absolute shit since then. There are estimates that put as high as 65% of the world's population as infected. Peter prefers the term "zombified", but Mr. Stark always scolds him. Neither Peter nor Mr. Stark have left the compound since they arrived. Mr. Stark's been neurotic about it. The only physical contact that they have with other people are the ones that drop off their supplies. Mr. Stark makes them suit up in hazmat-like outfits, not taking any chances with the highly contagious virus.

"I know the rules," Peter says. "But can't we break them just this once?"

"Do you want to be infected?" Mr. Stark shoots back.

"No, obviously. But what about Ned? He's not infected and-"

"Peter," Mr. Stark warns.

"Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"No."

Peter sighs in frustration. "I'd bet Pepper would let me leave," he says under his breath.

Mr. Stark drops his tool with a clang and swings around to face Peter. He's got a scary look in his eyes, but Peter doesn't back down. Pepper is a sore subject for Mr. Stark. The fact that she hasn't made an appearance at the compound is very strange. But every time Peter brings it up, Mr. Stark avoids talking about her like the plague.

"Peter Benjamin Parker. You will not leave the compound. Not now, not ever, and certainly not for Ned. Do not make me repeat myself."

"What if the world gets better? Do I get to leave then?"

"You can leave when I say you can. Now, leave me alone. I'm working."

Peter silently slides off his stool and makes his way towards the door. Mr. Stark's usually in a good mood when Peter's around (well, as good as one can be in a zombie apocalypse). He must have really hit a nerve mentioning Pepper.

When Peter reaches the door, he turns and lowly says, "I'm sorry."

Mr. Stark sighs and his shoulders drop. "Me too, Pete."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"...And I can't believe they're not gonna make the ninth Star Wars movie!" Ned exclaims via XBox Live.

"Well, considering a lot of the people working on the movie got infected, it makes sense," Peter says, directing his character to jump out of the way of a grenade.

"Yeah, but it still sucks."

Peter rolls his eyes fondly. Gosh, he misses his friend.

"Hey, did you ask Mr. Stark about us seeing each other?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, what did he say?"

A dark thought pops into his head as Ned asks his question. May had raised him to never lie, but... she's not here anymore. "He said... yes."

"Yes? Really?! What'd you tell him?"

"I-I just told him that I... wanted to see you. And I haven't been out of the compound in ages, so I've been kinda stir crazy and I think I've been driving him crazy. There's only so many times I can force him to binge watch Brooklyn 99 with me."

"Ha ha, yes! Dude, I'm so pumped! When is this happening?"

"Um... how 'bout tonight?"

"Dude! Tonight totally works. Should I come over? Or is Mr. Stark gonna drive you to Queens?"

"Uh, I'm gonna swing myself over."

"Duuuuuuude! Totally awesome!"

"Yeah, yeah, awesome," Peter laughs, trying not to make it sound like a nervous chuckle.

Oh boy. Mr. Stark can never find out. He'd kill him. Well, first he'd make sure Peter was safe and healthy. Then he'd kill him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peter somehow convinces Karen not to tell Friday and Friday not to tell Mr. Stark. Mission Escape is a go. Gosh, he's gotta come up with a better name.

He checks his surroundings one more time before knocking on Ned's bedroom window. Ned's head pops up and gives Peter a huge smile. "PETER!!! I can't believe you're here!"

"Dude," Peter says, as Ned drags him inside and squeezes the day lights out of him. "I've missed you so much."

"Dude, same. What do you wanna do first? XBox? Lego? Star Wars?"

"Uh... How about we go for a walk or something?"

"Peter. Are you kidding me? We are in the middle of a literal zombie apocalypse, and not all of us have superpowers and live in a complex that's larger and has more amenities than a mansion."

"Yeah, yeah, alright. But where's your sense of adventure? I mean we've been cooped up for months. Let's just head out to, like, the mall or something."

"The mall or something?" Ned repeats incredulously. "Do you want to be a zombie?"

"Well, that's even more of a reason to go! Don't you want to see a zombie in real life? Plus, I can look after us. I'm freaking Spider-Man!"

"Eh, I don't know, Peter. My mom said-"

"Ned, please. Mr. Stark hasn't even let me go for a walk! Please, please, please?"

His best friend sighs and shoots a nervous glance at his door. "Okay. Let's go. But I get to wear your mask!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Whoa, look at this!" Ned exclaims, running over to an abandoned Game Stop. "Dude, they have that slasher we wanted three months ago!"

"Sweet," Peter says, pressing his face up against the glass next to Ned's.

"I would say we should grab it, but it still feels wrong."

"Mr. Stark can get it for us."

"Sweet."

"Hey, let's go check the Hot Topic. Think about all the Funko Pop figures they'll have!"

"Dude, yes!"

The two make their way down the corridor together, laughing and messing around like they would three months ago. And for a moment, just a moment, they forgot the world ended.

But that moment quickly passed.

Peter's senses warn him before Ned grabs his arm. "Peter!" he hisses. "Zombie!"

"I see it, I see it!" Peter whisper yells.

"What do we do?!"

"Uh, let's..." Peter drags Ned behind a knocked over table. "Let's just stay here and wait for it to pass."

"What the hell kinda plan is that?"

"I-I don't know! I haven't seen that many zombie movies," Peter hisses, peering around the table.

The zombie shuffles its feet and grumbles a little. Peter and Ned gasp and duck their heads when it turns its head towards them. It's silent for a couple of seconds, then Ned asks, "Do you think it saw us?"

An inhuman shriek tears through the mall. Peter grabs Ned and yells, "RUN!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peter pants and drops the blood covered bat. He frantically backs away from the quickly expanding puddle of blood coming from the fifth zombie's head. Oh god, he's gonna be sick...

"Peter?" Ned says with a shaking voice.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, we have a problem."

Peter flips around, eyes wide from the lingering adrenaline rush. Ned's face is half covered in blood. He holds up a hand, showing off a bleeding bite mark.

Oh fuck.

Peter grabs his throbbing forearm. He glances down, checking the wound to push off having to deal with Ned's inevitable death for the time being. His vision swims as he sees teeth marks on his own arm.

Oh fuck.

Mr. Stark is gonna kill him after they die.

Oh fuck, they're gonna die.

They're literally about to die.

"Peter, we're gonna die," Ned says, staring at his hand forlornly.

"Yup."

"We're literally about to die."

"Yup."

"What are we gonna do? We're too young to die!"

"I know! What are we gonna do?"

"I asked you first!"

"Dude, come on, this is serious!"

"Well... you're Spider-Man! You figure something out!"

"I'm not clairvoyant, dumb ass!"

Ned looks hurt. "Dude..."

Peter sighs harshly and drops down to sit by his best friend. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just... scared."

"Me too."

"Seriously, what do we do?"

"You should call Mr. Stark. He'll know what to do."

Peter sighs and drops his head into his hands, trying not to start crying. "I... I lied. I lied about Mr. Stark letting me go. I snuck out. He'll kill me if he finds out."

Ned actually laughs. "We're gonna die anyway. What's the harm in telling him now?"

Peter pulls out his Spider-Man mask and watches as a tear drops onto the fabric. "I guess you're right," he sighs, pulling the mask over his blood splattered face. "Karen?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"Call Mr. Stark. Please."

The dial tone cuts off almost immediately. "Peter?"

"Hey, Mr. Stark," he says, trying to minimize his squeakiness.

"Hey, kiddo. Why are you calling from your suit...?"

"I, uh, have something I need to tell you."

"Why does Friday say you're not in the compound?"

"...I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark."

"God damn it, Peter! Where are you? I'm coming over there right now, and I'm gonna kill you. You are so grounded, young man. Do you have any idea how dangerous this was? You could have gotten yourself hurt or, worse, killed! Did you not realize we are in the middle of a zombie apocalypse? I mean, what were you thinking? God, I'm gonna wring your neck, you little punk-"

"Mr. Stark!" Peter finally interrupts. The tears began streaming down his face. He wanted let Mr. Stark continue to ream him out. Wanted to hear his voice. It makes him feel safe. Feel at home. "Mr. Stark, I'm sorry. I... Ned and I got infected. I-I-I don't know what to do. Please, you have to... I don't know what do. I'm a superhero, and I don't know what to do! Mr. Stark, what do I do?!"

"Okay, okay, slow down. I'm coming. You just gotta tell me where you are. GPS's aren't working anymore, so I can't track your suit."

"We're a-at a mall. In Queens."

"Okay. I'm coming, Pete. I'm coming. I promise."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mr. Stark finds Peter three hours later. He finds Peter sobbing in a Hot Topic hidden under the Star Wars pyjamas. "I couldn't do it, Mr. Stark," Peter sobs into his mentor's chest. "I couldn't. Ned... Ned's gone. I couldn't kill him. He begged me to do it, but I couldn't. I'm sorry. I couldn't do it. I let him turn. I'm sorry."

"Shh, Pete. It's okay. It's gonna be okay. You feel sick at all?"

"No. But I wish I were dead."


	3. The Plan

"You're sure you don't feel sick?" Tony asks, wrapping Peter in another thick blanket.

The kid just shakes his head.

It's been three days since Peter and Ned were bit. Peter should have been zombified two days and twenty one hours ago. God, he almost lost him... Tony's been keeping a close eye on Peter since he flew him back to the compound. He's dug into him a little when they got back, but he didn't have the heart to continue after Peter started crying again. Since Tony's heart already broke three months ago, Peter's cries merely ground his heart into dust.

"It must be your spidery-ness," Tony says, dropping next to Peter on the couch. He throws an arm around his shoulders, but Peter flinches.

"Tony, I could still be contagious!"

"The virus transfers via bodily fluids. As long as you don't bite me, I'll be okay."

"Ned was bit."

"Yeah, bud."

"Ned's a zombie."

"There's nothing you could have done about it."

"I could've shot him. I should've shot him."

"Peter. There's nothing you could have done. Okay?"

Peter grunts.

"I need to hear you say okay."

"Okay."

"Atta boy."

"I wanna die, Mr. Stark."

"Wh-What's wrong? You said you didn't feel sick earlier-"

"I'm not sick. That's the problem."

Tony stays silent. Peter's gone through this spiel twice already, but he doesn't want to interrupt. He rubs the kid's arm as Peter starts to shake.

"I should be a zombie right now. With Ned. Why is he a zombie when it was my idea to go outside? I was the stupid one. It's not fair." Peter scratches at his wrapped bite.

"It's okay, Pete. Leave that alone, it's healing."

"It's not fair, it's not fair, it's... It's not fair, Mr. Stark!" Blood starts to soak through the bandage as Peter gets more agitated.

"Let up on your arm, Crookshanks."

"It's not f-"

"I know it's not fair, kiddo. It sucks, but life's not fair."

Peter finally looks at his forearm and sucks in a sharp breath. "Oh, god. I'm bleeding."

"It's okay, kid. I'll change your bandages in a bit."

"I'm bleeding."

"Yep, but I'm gonna fix it. I'm gonna fix everything."

"You are?" Peter sniffles, looking up at his mentor.

"I am. I'm a mechanic. It's what I do."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Hold still, Pete."

Tony draws a vial of Peter's blood from the crook of his elbow. It's now been a full week since Peter was bit, and he has yet to turn. It was Peter that came to him with the idea to use his blood to possibly synthesize a cure.

Imagine that. A cure.

Peter looks away as Tony finally pulls the needle out of his arm. "All done, kiddo. Now let's see what nasty things are floating around in your blood, shall we?"

Peter just shrugs with a face that could barely be considered a smile. Tony's been trying to keep up the sunny attitude that Peter usually brings. It seems that the Peter that snuck out a week ago is not the same Peter that's sitting next to him now.

"Friday, scan."

"Scanning, boss. It should only take a few moments."

"That's my girl."

Peter perks up at that, and a hint of curiosity flickers through his eyes. But Friday speaks up before he can say anything.

"Master Parker's blood is at its normal levels, boss. Everything looks to be in order."

"Wow, that's amazing," Tony whispers, looking through the numbers. "You're a goddamn miracle, Spiderling."

"Can you do it?" Peter asks. "Can you make a cure?"

"No, I can't."

Peter slumps as disappointment hits him.

"But I know someone who can."

Tony finds something in Peter's eyes that's been missing since the day May died. Hope.

"Who?" he asks.

"The mean green fighting machine himself."

"Dr. Banner?" Peter says with actual excitement in his voice.

"Yes, Dr. Bruce Banner, world's leading expert in bio-radiation."

"Is that even a thing?" Peter giggles. Actually fucking giggles.

"Of course it is. I just made it up."

Peter smiles and slips off the bench he was sitting on. "Awesome! So, how... how do we...?"

"How do we get to him?"

"Yeah."

"Well... I still have to figure that part out."

"Oh."

"Last I heard, he was in Wakanda researching with their top scientists on how to fix the end of the world."

"I see."

"We're gonna need a way to get you there. I can't exactly fly you there as I don't know where it is. We need someone to fly us there."

Peter deflates again. "Well, shoot."

"But I know someone who can."

"Really? Who?"

"America's very own Iron Patriot."

"Colonel Rhodes!"

"The very same."

"Well, where is he?"

"Last I heard, he was in Colorado Springs at the Air Force Academy figuring out a way to get humanity off Earth all together."

"What, like in Interstellar?"

"I guess."

"Okay, so how do we get to him?"

"We can't."

Peter throws his arms up in frustration. "Well, what good does that do us?!"

"But I know someone who can."

"Oh my gosh, stop doing that!"

"Sorry, Pete. I know I have a flair for the dramatic."

Peter laughs (again) and asks, "Okay, so who's gonna get us to Colonel Rhodes to get us to Dr. Banner?"

Tony just smiles and winks.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"But why Tennessee?" Peter whines. "When you said road trip, I thought you meant somewhere cool like Florida or Chicago or even, like, Canada."

"Tennessee is the farthest place I have programmed into my suits. That'll get us like halfway there."

"That's more like a third..."

"Well, I don't know my states. Sue me."

Tony lashes the last of their supplies to the back of his suit with Peter's webbing. He's calculated the amount of food, water, and various suit dohiggies. Shut up, Peter. Dohiggy is totally a scientific term.

"Mr. Stark, are you sure about this?" Peter asks, timidly twisting his metal clad fingers.

"The only thing I'm not sure about is why you keep calling me 'Mr. Stark'. It's Tony or the highway, buddy."

"Okay, but seriously. This seems sorta... dangerous."

"Of course it is. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Honestly? I think it died with Ned."

Tony pauses at the blunt words and turns to face his intern. "Pete. We're superheroes, right? And we've saved the world how many times? This is just another notch on our metaphorical super belts. It's our duty."

Peter heaves a sigh and shrugs. "Alright, boss man. Let's do this."

"Atta boy. Now, latch on, and I'll fly us to-"

"What about Pepper?"

Tony's chest tightens and his jaw clenches. He should just tell Peter. Just suck it up and tell him. Grow a pair of balls, Stark. The boy's lost his aunt and his best friend. The least Tony could do is tell him the truth about... about...

God, he can't even say her name.

"Mr. Stark? Are you okay?"

Tony flinches as Peter lays a hand on his shoulder. He can feel himself shaking under Peter's steady hand.

"She's dead, right?" he asks quietly but knowingly.

Tony nods.

"I'm sorry."

Tony nods, then swipes at his eyes.

"If you wanna talk about it-"

"Thanks, Pete. But not now, okay?"

"Okay. But someday, right? You always make me talk about May and Ned, so I'm gonna make you talk to me."

"Sounds good, kid. Now, jump on," Tony says, shaking his thoughts away. "We've got a world to save."

"That sounded super lame."

"Hush you."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"We're approaching the target, boss."

"Thanks, Fri. Pete, we're almost there."

"You've said that like twenty times already!" Peter yells over the sound of the air rushing past.

"Eh, more like nineteen."

"That's the same thing, Mr. Stark!"

"Who?"

"I'm not calling you Tony. It feels weird."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Parker."

Peter just sighs as Tony touches down in the middle of the woods. Tony feels the weight on the back of his suit lessen as Peter steps off his web-made hand and foot holds. The suit opens, and Tony steps out. Unlike last time he crash landed in Tennessee, the southern sun warms his skin. Not a flake of fucking snow in sight. "Friday, follow," he orders.

"Is your suit a dog now?" Peter laughs, springing into a cartwheel then a handstand. Now that his leash has been snapped, he's letting all his energy out. It seems getting Peter out of the compound was a good idea after all. And if they happen to save the world on the way... that'll just be a bonus.

"My suit is actually closer to a pack mule at this point," Tony says, starting the trek out of the woods.

"So, why were you in Tennessee the first time?" Peter asks, practically running in circles at this point.

"I was investigating the explosion that almost killed Happy."

Peter stills. "Oh. So... where are we heading now?"

"An old friend's place."

"Okay, cool!" Peter runs at a tree and uses it to flip off of. "Lead the way."

"Try to keep your feet on the ground in the meantime."

"Whatever, old man."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Alright, Pete, stay right there," Tony breathes, calling the suit to himself. A zombie lumbers across from the two travelers. Tony had pulled his ward down behind an abandoned car, praying to Thor the boy would actually stay put.

"But I can help!" he protests.

"You could get hurt."

"But I'm immune, remember?"

"It could still rip your throat out. Stay. Put."

"Mr. Stark-"

"Stay. Put."

Peter growls as Tony stands from his crouch and makes short work of the zombie. They walk on in silence for a couple minutes. "It's for the best," Tony says after a bit, placing a hand on Peter's shoulder. Peter doesn't shrug him off, but he still doesn't look happy about it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tony sticks his arm out to stop Peter in his tracks. "That looks like some sorta laser trip wire," he says, bending down to inspect the prospective trap.

"Yo, it totally is!" Peter gasps, crouching down beside Tony. "This is so cool! It looks like something out of... well, I can't think of a movie right now, but I know it's from something."

"Well, this means we're heading in the right direction."

"Your friend is the type to set booby traps?"

"In the event of a zombie apocalypse, absolutely. No doubt in my mind."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tony holds up a hand to stop Peter in his tracks behind him. A shuffling sound comes from the other side of the wall. If he can hear it, he knows Peter can hear it too with his super hearing. So when Tony hears Peter quote John Wayne behind him, his head whips around so fast, he feels something pull in his neck.

"It's quiet. Too quiet."

Tony shoves his hand over Peter's mouth a second too late. Peter shrinks back from Tony's glare after the zombie shrieks its displeasure. Tony grabs his arm and runs. "You just had to say something, didn't ya Short Round?"

"Okay, one, I take offense to your analogy," Peter says as they sprint. "I mean, Temple of Doom is the worst of the series, ignoring Crystal Skull of course. I'm at least a Marion. And two, I had to say it! It was the perfect timing."

"Do you not remember that the zombies will rip your throat out?!"

"But it sounded cool!"

Tony just sighs and pulls open a door to what looks like a warehouse. He steps through the doorway and feels something tighten around his ankle. The next thing he knows, he's dangling above the ground, strung up with a chain by his ankle. At the far end of the warehouse, a fridge drops to the floor. The counterweight.

"Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark! Are you okay?" Peter yells up at him, a panicked look on his face. The Iron Man suit primes its repulsors in response to the fear in Peter's face. It takes aim at the zombies trying to claw their way into the warehouse.

"I'm okay, kiddo."

"What can I do?"

"Head over to that fridge and break the chain. That should drop me."

"O-Okay. I got this."

Tony taps his glasses to bring up the suit's HUD to control it remotely as Peter yanks on the chain. Tony sends the suit all around the warehouse, taking out zombies left and right. Peter searches the chain for weak links. He can use his super strength to break it. Smart little shit.

"Heads up, Mr. Stark!" is all the warning Tony gets before he's dropping to the ground head first. Or glasses first.

The frames twist and the suit powers down. Shit.

A yelp from the fridge side of the warehouse draws Tony's frantic attention. "Tony! Help!" Peter yells, fending off two zombies.

Tony growls and drags himself to his feet. Suit or no suit, Tony Stark is Iron Man. Time to kick some ass. He takes two determined steps forward but is quickly dropped to the ground once again. He finds a disgusting face bearing down on him, snapping its teeth together. Oh god, this is the end. Tony's gonna die and leave poor Peter to fend for himself. Poor, poor Peter. Just as Tony's arms are beginning to give out, salvation arrives.

Tony flinches as he zombie makes its final push for his throat, a projectile smacks it in the head, effectively knocking it off him. Another projectile cracks its head wide open. Tony crinkles his face in disgust. It looked so much cooler in Game of Thrones. In real life it just looked gross.

He looks up at his savior and almost cries in relief. "Oh thank god you're not dead," Tony exhales, holding out his arm for help up.

Harley Keener, holding his new and improved potato/large projectile cannon, latches on to Tony's wrist to pull him up. "Come on, old man," he scoffs. "You really think some stupid old zombies could kill me? You're funnier than I remember."

Tony would shoot something witty back on any other occasion, but Peter was still in danger. "Harley, I got someone I want you to meet."

They run over to the kid was struggling with three zombies now. Tony uses his wrist watch repulsor to mercilessly destroy the mindless things attacking his ward. Harley quickly joined in, and together they make short work of the zombies. "Harley, this is Peter. Peter, Harley," Tony pants, bracing himself on his knees when all the threats had been neutralized.

"What's up, dude." Harley holds out his hand for Peter to take.

"Nothing much. Just almost died, so... hanging in there I guess."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"So... how do you two know each other?" Harley asks as he hands Tony a large... weapon of some sort. Peter's in the back of the room, fiddling around with the tchotchkes lining the walls and tables.

"Ah, well, he was my intern before the..." Tony trails off but waves his hand to indicate Harley should fill in the blank. "And now, Pete's sorta like my ward. We've both... lost people. So now, we're sticking together."

Harley nods in understanding and fiddles with something around his wrist. "I get that. I've lost people too... My mom took my sister and ran when the news of the outbreak first hit."

"You should come with us."

"I can't... I don't know if they'll make their way back here. What if my sister breaks away from my mom and she comes looking for me and I'm not here and-"

Tony takes a breath to cut him off, but a crash interrupts their conversation from the far side of the room.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Peter says, picking up the things he dropped and trying to put them back.

"Ya know, for someone that sticks to everything, you've sure got some slippery fingers," Tony says, rolling his eyes.

Peter snorts as he finishes haphazardly piling everything back on the table.

Later that night, the three find themselves sitting around the fireplace in the Keener Household, eating dinner. "So, where are you guys headed?" Harley asks.

"Oh, uh, Colorado," Tony says, glancing over at Peter. He asks Peter with his eyebrows if it was okay for him to tell Harley his little secret.

"Why are you heading to nowhere-ville USA?" Harley laughs.

"Well... Pete's immune," Tony says when Peter gives him a nod of consent.

Harley almost drops his spoon. "Immune? As in... immune? Immune immune?"

"Yup."

"How?"

"Well, he's-"

"I am Spider-Man," Peter says, lifting his chin and making a strange face.

To address the look from Tony, he explains, "I've always dreamed of revealing my identity super dramatically like you did. Now that the world has ended, I'll probably never get to do it, so I thought I'd do it now."

"Whoa, whoa, we're just gonna skip over the fact that this skinny little kid is a superhero?" Harley asks.

"Hey! You're not that different," Peter shoots back.

"Okay, okay, stop! This could go on for a while," Tony says.

"I can't believe you replaced me!" Harley says as a mock accusation.

"Like I could ever replace you, ya little scoundrel."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"You sure you have everything?"

"Yeah, we're sure. Iron Mule's got it handled," Peter says, gesturing to Tony packing the last of the supplies onto the suit.

"Okay, well... Go save the world I guess."

"We will. It's what superheroes do," Tony chimes in.

"And I hope you find your family," Peter adds quietly. "I overheard you and Mr. Stark yesterday. I truly hope you three find each other."

"Thanks, Spider-Man," Harley says. "Hope you two make it Colorado okay. Stop in on your way back."

"We will. Bye, Harley."

"Bye, Peter."

"Come on, kiddo. We're losing daylight."

"Alright, alright, I'm coming. Don't get your iron panties in a twist."

"Oh, that's genius," Tony says, slinging an arm around Peter as they start their long trek north. "An Iron Man underwear line. Why didn't I think of that when Stark Industries was still around?"

"Mr. Stark, they already have those. I saw dozens at an abandoned Target just last week."

"Damn, Pepper's good."


	4. Country Roads

"Alright, jump in, kiddo. We're running out of daylight."

"I'm coming, bossy pants."

"What the hell were you doing over there anyway?"

"I was scrounging through Harley's gift bag. He collected a bunch of people's abandoned phones, so I was picking out tunes for our road trip. Duh."

"Oh yes. Because that's completely normal during a zombie apocalypse. It's not like we're in any danger standing out here in the open, bodies exposed to the elements. You have noticed it's raining, right?"

"The pile I found didn't have much variety," Peter says, ignoring Mr. Stark's impatient jabs. "But I think I picked the most road trippy tracks. And this one CD labeled 'Dana's Mix'. I don't know what's on it, but I'm real excited to find out. It'll be like musical roulette."

"What, pray tell, constitutes a 'road trippy' track?" Mr. Stark asks, using air quotes and all.

"It's, ya know... road trippy. I can't really explain it. May had a three hour playlist for our trips to Virginia Beach. She always had the better ear for this kinda stuff."

"Yeah, well... anybody could have a better ear than you. I've heard some of your lab playlist. It's something a 14 year old girl would listen to."

Mr. Stark's lighthearted jabs take away the sting of mentioning May as they climb into the pickup truck. "Well, I'm 16," Peter says, "and gender doesn't dictate what you listen to so..."

"Yeah, yeah. Just put your seat belt on."

Peter does as he's told then reaches over the console to plug the first stranger's cracked iPhone into the charging portal. "Now, I'm starting with John Denver, because he is the epitome of road trippy music."

Mr. Stark just grunts as the guitar twangs.

"Doesn't this just get you in the road trip mood, Mr. Stark?"

"Sure, kid."

"What's the matter? Not a country music fan?" Peter teases.

"Definitely not. But I can tolerate John Denver."

Peter laughs and skips to the next song on his playlist.

Mr. Stark smiles as Creedence Clearwater Revival begins to play. "Ah, yes. Much better."

Peter laughs and rolls his eyes. "Gosh, you're so predictable."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Mr. Stark?"

The bundle of blankets across from Peter shuffles a little in acknowledgment.

"Are you sure you're comfortable on the ground?" he asks. "My body can handle the floor a lot better."

"Kid, just take the mattress and shut up."

"Mr. St-"

"And call me Tony."

"Ugh, fine. Tony. Take the mattress."

"Shut up."

"Tony-"

"Goodnight."

Peter sighs and fixes his blankets. "Masochist," he mutters.

"You don't know the half of it."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Mr. Stark yawns behind the wheel of the vehicle. "You should pull over, Mr. Stark. I can drive for a bit," Peter says. "They told me in driving school that driving tired is just as dangerous as driving drunk."

"I'm fine, kiddo."

"Ooookay. But if we die, it's on you."

"We'll be fine."

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

"Alright, I trust you."

"Pete..." Mr. Stark sighs.

"What? I said I trusted you," Peter says a little too innocently.

"I don't need your sass, mister."

"I'm not sassing you."

"I'm basically the human incarnation of sass. I know it when I hear it."

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

"I'm your mentor. I don't have to prove anything to you."

"...Isn't that the exact opposite-?"

"Shut up, I'm tired."

"Ah ha! So you admit it!"

Mr. Stark just rubs his forehead.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The two weary travelers cross from Kansas into Colorado. "Finally," Mr. Stark sighs. "I never thought I'd been excited to be in Colorado. What has the world come to?"

"Uh, the zombie apocalypse?" Peter quips from the backseat.

"God, you're annoying."

Peter snickers and pushes himself into a sitting position. He rests his chin on the shoulder of Mr. Stark's seat. "Hm," Peter says, gazing out the windshield. "I'd thought there'd be more mountains."

"Nah, they're deeper in the state."

"Boo." Peter leans back and picks up his comic book again. "Wake me when we get to the cool stuff."

"I thought you were excited for the road trip?"

"Yeah, but we've been in the car for hours now."

"Well, do you wanna stop to stretch your legs? We're not running on fumes, but the gas tank is getting a little low."

"Sure. There's an exit up ahead."

They pull off and park at a double-decker McDonald's. Mr. Stark goes off in search of full gas tanks he can siphon, and Peter is sent inside to raid the freezer. Restaurant freezers have been the most reliant source of food during their road trip. The cans of beans and vegetables they packed had gotten old quick. They jumped on the chance for fast food whenever they could.

Peter makes his way behind the counter, using his enhanced hearing to make sure there's no zombies up ahead. He yanks on the freezer's lock. The metal barely gives any resistance to his super strength. He yanks open the door and grins at the sight of the crates of burger patties. He cracks one open and scoops a couple out into his sack. They'll cook them up over a fire tonight.

Peter suddenly freezes as his spidey-senses alert him to danger. He closes up his sack and slinks out of the freeze. If he were a dog, his ears would be poking straight up on top of his head. His heart nearly stops when he hears voices that aren't his or Mr. Stark's.

"Man, I miss Big Macs."

"Well, you're in the right place my dude."

"You think they have any secret sauce?"

"Yeah, but it'll probably be expired by now."

"Damn it."

Peter takes a deep breath as he hears metal clinking against metal. Best case scenario: dog tags, empty cans, and/or commemorative pins. Worst case scenario: guns.

He needs to warn Mr. Stark.

Peter turns his back to the voices and footsteps to look for a backdoor. The hairs on the back of his neck warn him about the third stranger too late. He rounds the corner and runs face first into a solid chest. Peter tries to makes a run for it before the man realizes his presence, but the stranger snags his collar before he can get too far. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Peter keeps his lips pressed together, giving the man his most intimidating glare. He could really use his Spider-man mask right now. Mr. Stark loves to tell him how non-intimidating he is.

"John, Jimmy, get over here. We've got ourselves a little surprise."

The heavy footsteps make their way around the corner. They all laugh as the man holding him shakes him. They drag him over to the seating area and throw him into a booth. Peter watches as they dump his bag out on the table. He fixates on his watch. The one Mr. Stark customized for him. The one with a panic button built in. The one the biggest guy is examining in his huge hands.

"This don't work no more. What you still carrying it around for?" the man asks.

"It belonged to my uncle," Peter answers quietly.

"Ah, sentimental. Why's the button so big?"

"Why don't you press it and find out?" Peter bites back.

"Little smart ass, ain't you?" the man snarls and flings the watch at Peter's face.

His spider reflexes take over, and he catches it without thinking. If the thugs find this weird, they don't say anything. Peter slips his hands and watch under the table. He presses the button five times in rapid succession. The watch vibrates briefly to indicate that it received Peter's input. His shoulders relax slightly. Now it's just a waiting game.

"What're these?" Peter stiffens as one of them lifts up a web shooter. To be fair, Mr. Stark designed them to look pretty inconspicuous. He still flinches as the man tosses it over his shoulder to clatter across the grimy floor tiles.

Peter's ears pick up the sounds of Iron Man's repulsors before the trio of goons does. He barely has time to duck under the table when a window upstairs shatters. "Step away from the kid, assholes," comes Mr. Stark's slightly mechanical voice.

Peter would give anything to have witnessed the looks on the goons faces. Imagine scrounging through a random McDonald's just inside Colorado's state line three and a half months into the zombie apocalypse, harassing a random teenager, then being accosted by an angry Iron Man. Peter probably would have pissed himself then passed out.

A heavy metal clank can be heard a couple feet away. The three men haven't moved, probably frozen in shock. The only sound that's slipped through their lips was a whispered "fuck".

"I said. Step. Away," Mr. Stark says, readying a repulsor.

The men take a couple shuffling steps away from the table.

"That's better. Now, I'm feeling particularly generous today. I'll let you go on your merry way if you drop the kid's stuff right there and make your way off the premises, never to be heard from again. Capisce?"

Silence.

"Please don't make me ask again."

More silence.

One of them must have nodded, because Mr. Stark says, "Alrighty then. Toodle loo."

There's hurried footsteps, the creek of an old door, then silence.

"You can come out, Pete. Coast's clear."

Peter pokes his head out from under the table. "You didn't have to show off," he grumbles, dusting himself off.

"Kid. I'm Tony Stark. Am I embarrassing you?" he says with entirely too much cheek.

Peter just rolls his eyes.

"Let's get going before they come back with friends."

They rush out to the parking lot and pile into the truck. They speed back to the highway, hearts racing in fear of what could have happened.

They pull over about an hour later to use the bathroom and eat. Peter's on edge the whole time. His spidey-senses won't let up, but he ignores them. It's probably left over from the McDonald's. Probably.

When they get moving again, a sharp stab stings his brain so he can't ignore it anymore. "Mr. Stark?"

"Mr. Parker?"

"I... There's something wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"My spidey-sense is... tingling."

"Your what is what?"

"My-"

Then everything goes black as an empty car smashes into the side of their truck at full speed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peter wakes to the sound of the radio playing faintly. It was some kind of old rock song Mr. Stark probably liked.

Mr. Stark.

Peter shakes his head to ward off the lingering dizziness. He looks to his left to see Mr. Stark slumped over the wheel. He looks fine at first glance, but closer inspection shows that a slab of metal has... impaled him. Literally impaled. Like a shish kebab.

He's gonna be sick.

Peter swallows the bile down and forces himself to find a solution. Unfortunately, the only solution he could think of was to wake Mr. Stark. He would know what to do.

Mr. Stark coughs as he comes to. "Wha... Peter, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Mr. Stark. But... you're not looking too hot."

"Yeah, my stomach... ugh. Are you feeling sick, too? D'you need med-shin?"

"No, no, Mr. Stark. There's something sticking through your abdomen."

Mr. Stark finally looks down at his stomach. "Oh, would you look at that?" He then precedes to pass out again.

Peter almost follows him into the abyss. But he doesn't. Not yet. He holds it together just long enough to throw up all over the dashboard.

Then he passes out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Fri, can you give me a hand?"

"Of course."

The mechanic whirring of the suit is soothing as it lifts Mr. Stark out of his seat, metal skewer and all. Peter leads the suit into the abandoned house he found. He directed Friday to lay his mentor on the bed in the master bedroom. His blood soaks through the white sheets. Peter's knees weaken and almost cause him to collapse, but Friday catches him under the arms. "Peter, you need to pull the wreckage out of boss's abdomen," she says.

"But won't he bleed out?" he whispers, thinking back to his Honors Anatomy class.

"He would but I'll put him in the suit to put pressure on the puncture wound. It should stop the bleeding."

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay."

Peter swallows hard and takes slow steps towards the bed. He braces a hand on the bed and reaches a hesitant hand to the offending skewer. He takes another breath to steel himself, then grips the non-bloody end of the metal slab. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," he whispers. Then yanks as hard as he can.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Weeks later, Peter finds himself tromping through the snow with his webshooters on each wrist. While Mr. Stark heals, Peter's on his own. He's been hiking around to get out the house and stretch his legs. Friday warns him not to, but she's not the boss of him.

Peter sits in a tree watching a couple of birds flit around a couple feet away. There weren't any birds in Queens. Besides the pigeons, but they're basically rats with wings. His ears pick up a twig snapping. He turns to find a deer just chilling under his tree. Peter gasps excitedly and sits forward. A bit of snow drops off the branch and startles the deer. "Oh, oh, no!" Peter huffs as the deer darts away. "Damn it."

He drops out of the tree to follow. What else does he have to do?

Peter feels like Katniss Everdeen, stalking her prey in the forests of District 12. He wasn't actually going to kill it though. He just wanted to see what a normal day is like for a deer. He wonders if it's changed since the beginning of the zombie apocalypse.

He follows its tracks until he sees it standing so gracefully in a clearing. The sun glints off the snow, making a halo around the deer's head. Peter stays deathly still, wanting to drink in nature's beauty for as long as he can.

All that is broken when a rifle shot cracks through the air.

The deer bellows and falls to its knees as blood pours out of its side. Peter's frozen in place as it cries out again, writhing on the snow covered ground surrounded by its own blood. He shivers as the image of Mr. Stark bleeding on the white bed sheets pops into his head and can't help but compare Mr. Stark and the deer.

Peter finally snaps out of his reverie when two figures enter the clearing. He hides behind a tree as they stand over the dying deer. One lifts a rifle to the deer's head, but the other lifts a hand to stop him. No words pass between them, the the sentiment is clear: don't waste the bullet. So they stand there as the deer passes from this world while suffering.

Once the deer heaves its final breath, the men each grab an antler and begin to drag the carcass out of the clearing. Peter stealthily follows them. He doesn't quite understand why they need to kill the deer. Maybe they're from a larger community and ran out of food. Peter hopes that's the case, and they aren't killing for sport. Uncle Ben quit fishing when he saw Peter was upset by it. God, Peter misses him.

After about a mile, the two men stop in a barn to take a rest and start a fire. Peter finds a comfortable spot to sit in the rafters. He doesn't stay there for long, however.

"We know you're there, kid. Come on down."

Peter freezes as the two look up and smile at him. They're not nice smiles either. There's something behind their eyes that gives Peter the creeps. But he knows he's been had, so he slowly climbs his way down. He lands on the ground a couple of feet away from the fire where the men can't reach him. "Hey, what's up?" he says totally nonchalantly.

"Come take a seat," the one that didn't want to waste a bullet says. He looks to be the older one.

Peter hesitantly drops across from the two men. His spidey-senses are humming, but he can't discern why. He hypothesizes it's because of the hunters, but he can't be sure yet. They seem nice.

"We knew you were following us from the get go, by the way," the man continues. "You're not very sneaky."

"Where ya from, kid?" the other asks.

"Uh... down the street."

"Who you living with? You aren't living by yourself, are you?"

"No, no! I'm with, uh-uh-uh, my dad." Peter cringes internally at that. Mr. Stark probably wouldn't like that. "It's just... him and me."

"Ah, well, if you need people watching your back, you could come find us."

"Nah, we're okay."

"You sure?" the older guy asks. "There's gotta be something you two need. Food, water, medicine-?"

"Medicine!" Peter exclaims suddenly.

The other men look startled at his outburst.

"Uh, medicine. He-We need medicine."

The two exchange a glance then turn back to Peter with smiles. "Why don't you follow us back to our community? We can show you around then get you the medicine. Your dad's sick, huh?"

"It's none of your business!" he quickly shoots back. "And I'm not following you anywhere. Ever heard of stranger danger?"

The men chuckle. The older man holds out a hand. "I'm David."

Peter shakes his hand.

"Come with me, kid. We'll find you something to eat. You're so skinny. Gotta fatten you up a bit, don't we?"


	5. Rampage

Tony startled awake in the dark with something covering his face. His breaths became panicked as a sharp pain stabbed through his abdomen. The Iron Man HUD lights up around his face as Friday says, "Stay calm, boss. You're safe. You're in the suit in an abandoned house in-"

"Why does it feel like someone is actively ripping my innards out?" he grunts.

"You were impaled. Peter found an empty house where you could heal in peace."

Tony scoffs fondly. "That little... Where is he now?"

"I don't know."

Tony shoots up into a sitting position, wincing. "What?! Why did you-?"

"He gets restless, so he goes on day trips out of the house. I keep telling him it's dangerous, but he goes anyway. Does that remind you of anyone?" she asks cheekily.

"Shut up. How long has he been gone?"

"18 hours."

"18 hours?!"

"Longer than usual."

"Oh god. You think he's dead? Or injured? Or-or-"

"Boss, stay calm. An elevated heart beat could cause your wound to reopen."

"I've gotta find him."

Tony sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the mattress. The tries to stifle the groan, but he was in too much pain to hold it all in. Friday ups the suit's rigidity to help him stand and walk. He mutters his thanks and engages the jets to shoot out the window. Time to find his kid.

Friday scans the surrounding area and finds an area with a high human density. Tony flies to the edge of the community and drops out the sky to use stealth. He tromps through the woods and finds a well trodden path through the snow. He ducks behind a snow drift to lie in wait.

It takes hours before a couple of men walk down the path. Friday highlights the men, and Tony asks her to tranquilize them. The suit shoots two darts out of the shoulder compartment. Tony drags them to a nearby abandoned building that conveniently had a lot of loose chains laying around. He chains one to a radiator and the other to a chair facing his friend.

Tony has Friday blast an air horn sound through the suit's speakers. The two men startle awake, and their eyes jump around the room trying to take in their surroundings. "Hey, eyes up here," Tony says, retracting the helmet.

"Holy shit, that's Tony Stark," the one on the radiator says in awe.

"You, shut it," he snaps, pointing at the radiator bitch. "You, start talking," he points at the chair bitch.

"A-A-About what?" Chair Bitch stutters.

"About the kid. He's been missing for 26 hours now. Someone must have taken him. And you're my only lead."

Chair Bitch sucks in a breath and looks down at his lap. "I'm not saying a word."

"So you know where he is?"

Chair Bitch just glares.

Tony sighs harshly, practically a growl, and holds up a gauntlet. "So I asked you a question. I expect an answer, and I really don't want to ask twice."

The silence is only broken by Radiator Bitch shifting in his restraints.

Tony powers up the gauntlet and places his hand on Chair Bitch's thigh. He crinkles his nose at the scent of burnt skin, and the man screams. "Where's the boy?!" Tony yells over Chair Bitch's screams, fear and anger almost choking him.

"Ahhhh, okayokayokayokayokay, I'll talk! I'll talk!"

"You have ten seconds of reprieve before I start melting your skin off again."

"David took him!"

"Took him where?"

"T-To headquarters! He's David's new pet."

Fuck. "Where's headquarters?"

"U-Up the road! It's one of the houses! Th-There's a bunch of guards outside. You can't miss it."

Tony powers up his gauntlet again, and Chair Bitch starts begging. But Tony's out of patience. So he aims for Chair Bitch's chest instead. His screams cut off almost instantly. Tony turns to the other piece of shit working for the man that stole his Peter.

Radiator Bitch shuffles away, trying to flatten himself against the radiator. "Wai-Wai-Wait! H-He told you what he wanted, Stark. J-Just let me go. Please," he finishes with a whisper.

"I can't," Tony replies through gritted teeth. "You took my kid. I can't just... let you go when he's out there with some creep doing lord knows what to him."

"But you're Iron Man! Aren't you supposed to be, like, a hero?"

"That was before the world ended. Now, I'm just man in a can that looks out for his kid."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tony uses Friday to scan the settlement as he moves through. So far, he's only seen grungy adult men wandering around the premises. No women, no children. No spider teenagers. "Can't you extend your scanners past my nose?" he huffs in annoyance.

"I apologize, boss. Without GPS, I cannot extend the scanning radius past 50 feet."

"God, you're useless."

"You programmed me."

"Mute."

He stalks through the abandoned grocery store, cutting through to avoid the chill. Tony rolls his eyes as Friday charts him a course through the freezer. She's probably doing it to be petty. He pushes aside the plastic flaps and stops in his tracks. His stomach, however, lurches. There's human bodies strung up like... like meat. Like Hannibal Lector's butcher shop. Tony swallows some bile and hoarsely asks, "Fri? Is... Is Peter...?"

"No, boss," she says quietly, sensing Tony's silent panic.

"Thank god..."

"Continue along the path. The environment is stressing you out. Need I remind you of your numerous heart conditions?"

Tony sighs and shakes his head. He makes his way along the path at a much faster pace. Of course the kid would be kidnapped by a pedophilic cannibal. Damn pint-sized trouble-finder... "Oh, when I find that creep... I'm gonna skin him alive. I'm gonna rip out his innards then force him to eat them. I'm gonna cut out his-" Tony cuts himself off when Friday shows a positive scan.

"Peter's in the building on the right. Heat scans shows another man with him."

Tony watches as Peter's red outline is tackled by a larger red outline in Friday's infrared scan of the building. "That motherfucker won't know what hit him," Tony says through gritted teeth.

"Go get him, boss."

Tony ignites his thrusters and jets over to the almost empty restaurant. He busts through the doors and skids to a stop. He freezes in place at the sight of the two of them on the ground. He retracts his helmet to watch with his own two eyes.

Peter's straddling who Tony believes is the creep-o. He's holding a machete over his head, and he's bringing it down on the lead cannibal's head. Over and over and over again. The teen's sobbing as the skull below him turns to mush. Tony's snapped back into action as a particularly loud sob tears through the boy's body. He quickly makes his way over to his kid and grabs Peter's arm as he brings the machete up again. "Pete, stop," he says, attempting to pry the knife out of the boy's hand.

Peter just grunts as he tries to rip himself out of Tony's hold.

"Pete, come on."

"No," he moans.

Tony puts a little extra force through the gloves of his suit and finally pulls the machete from Peter's fingers.

"No! No, I'm-I'm not-" Peter says, visibly panicking.

"Peter, it's me. It's me. It's okay, you're okay." Tony tries to pull Peter to his chest, but he keeps pushing the metal suit away. Tony ejects from the suit and reaches for Peter again.

"I-I-I don't wanna... please," Peter whimpers. He stills when Tony's bare palm rests on his shoulder. "Wha- Tony?"

"Yeah, bud. It's me. I'm here, it's okay now."

"Tony, I didn't mean it," he sobs, throwing himself into Tony's arms. "I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it. I didn't-"

"You didn't mean what?"

"I didn't mean to kill him."

Tony sighs as a strong sadness grips his heart. Not for the creep's corpse laying in front of him. But for the innocent kid in his arms. "I know you didn't, kiddo. It's okay."

"I didn't, I swear."

"I kn-"

"I swear."

"I know, buddy. I'm here now, you don't have to worry."

"He tried to... tried to..." Peter retches but nothing comes up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're okay, he's gone now. Let's get you up and moving back over to our Airbnb."

"Tony, he-"

"Why don't you tell me over a mug of hot coco. I found some in the kitchen. I know you love hot coco." Tony finds himself rambling to stop Peter from panicking again.

"I... I didn't..."

"I know, bud. Come on, the hot coco won't make itself."

"He... Hot coco?" Peter finally lifts his eyes to meet Tony's. The tears pooling in his big brown eyes breaks Tony's heart.

"Yeah, buddy. Hot coco."

"Hot... H-Hot coco."

"Up and at 'em, Porky Pig."


	6. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DESCRIPTIONS OF ATTEMPTED RAPE IN THIS CHAPTER
> 
> Nothing super explicit, but please be safe, dear reader.

Peter shakes under the weight of the blanket Mr. Stark draped over him. He sighs into his mug, feeling guilty for holding them up. Mr. Stark said they wouldn't move from their new house miles down the road until he was sure Peter was okay. The faster they get moving, the faster the Wakandans can synthesize a cure.

He flinches slightly as Mr. Stark bustles into the room. "Alright, kid. We're in luck," he says as he drops next to Peter on the couch. "The previous owners had an extensive movie collection. We're set for a couple of weeks. What do you wanna start with? I would recommend a classic like The Godfather or Casablanca, but we can watch whatever you want."

Peter heaves a sigh and leans into Mr. Stark's side. "I'm down for whatever."

"They have Star Wars."

"Um, whatever you want."

Mr. Stark sighs and places an arm around Peter's shoulders. "Okay, you're obviously not up for a movie. Do you wanna talk about... what happened?"

Peter's breathing ratchets up a notch. The memories of David's lair are too raw right now. Peter shakes his head and burrows himself further into Mr. Stark's side.

"Alright, kid. We'll just hang out here on the couch. Just you and me. No one else. You're safe with me."

Peter knows he should probably be feeling emasculated by Mr. Stark's tone, but his soft words are actually helping Peter keep calm. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

"There you go, buddy. Deep breaths are good."

As good as it feels to just hang with Mr. Stark with a suit guarding the house so no one can get him, he really hates just sitting around. He wishes he could get over David already. But the memories of the cage and the knife and...

Peter shudders violently. The images of David's snarling face keep pushing through his mind. The phantom feeling of David's fingers around his throat cause him to compulsively swallow so he doesn't puke all over Mr. Stark. He can still feel David's hot breath hitting his face as he hissed-

"-Pete, Pete, come back. You're not there anymore." Mr. Stark's voice gets clearer as reality fades in. "You're sitting next to me on a couch. I'm never letting anything happen to you again. Never, never, never. And I'm never letting you out of my sight until the world has un-ended. And then possibly five years after. Just to be sure."

The boy tries to huff a laugh. It comes out sounding like some kind of choked gasp.

"It's okay, kid. I've got you now." Mr. Stark runs a hand up and down his back protectively. "I've always got you."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Mr. Stark, please!"

"No, not until you tell me what happened."

"People are dying, Mr. Stark! They're turning into zombies! We should be on our way to Colonel Rhodes. My blood could hold the cure, we shouldn't be wasting our time-"

"It's not wasted time if you're healing."

"I'm completely fine! Not a scratch on me!"

"I meant healing mentally, Pete."

"I'm perfectly fine! I-I'm over it. Completely."

"Really? So your freak out on our walk yesterday was completely normal and not-worrying?"

"Well... I'm-"

"Kid, we're staying here."

"Mr. St-"

"That's the last I want to hear about it."

Peter huffs and grabs his jacket from the back of the chair.

"Where are you going?" Mr. Stark asks as Peter stalks toward the door.

"Out."

"Oh no you don't." He gets up and places himself between Peter and the door. "That's how we got into this situation in the first place."

"What, me taking a walk?" he scoffs.

"Do you not remember when you ran away to see your only friend get zombified? Or when you went for a walk and were almost eaten?"

Peter breathes harshly. He angrily shoulders Mr. Stark aside. "Leave me alone."

"Ugh, fine. Friday, follow him closely."

"Leave me ALONE!"

"I will not. You find trouble everywhere. I have to protect you. I need to protect you. If I can't, I'll... freak out. Big time."

Peter deflates at the genuine fear in Mr. Stark's eyes.

"And you don't want that. Bad heart."

"Mr. Stark, I-"

"No, I get it. Teenage angst. You need your space. Just... take the suit. For my sanity."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Peter lays awake, staring at the ceiling in the middle of the night. He growls and kicks the covers off his legs. It's past the point of no return, so Peter wanders around the empty house. He finds himself laying on the couch, knees pressed against his chest.

It only feels like a blink, but when he opens his eyes again, he finds himself back in David's cage. He startles and flies to his feet. "No, no, no..." he murmurs to himself as he presses his hands against the chain link borders. "I can't... I don't..."

"Hey, Peter."

Peter throws himself to the back corner of the cage, tremors already racking his body.

"Oh, there you are."

He shakes his head, pressing his hands over his ears.

"Are you trying to hide from me? I thought we were friends."

"Please... Leave me alone..." he whimpers, tears unwillingly rolling down his cheeks.

"Why would I do that, Peter? Don't you want to hang out?"

"Please no!"

"You don't mean that, Peter."

Suddenly, the cage disappears and Peter finds himself under David's body with fingers tight around his neck. He tries kicking the man off, but he won't budge.

"You can try begging."

A strangled cry leaves Peter's crushed throat. Dig deep, Spider-Man. You can stop him... You can...

"You think you know me, huh?"

Peter's struggles increase as David's unoccupied hand fiddles with the front of his pants.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of."

The boy sees red as he brings the machete down on David's face. David screams are sharply cut off when he brings it down again. And again. And again. Peter's crying. He sees a tear slip off his face and drop into the puddle of blood surrounding his tormentor's then-head-now-mush.

He feels his body being shaken, but he keeps swinging.

"...eter."

Just... swinging...

"Peter!"

His stomach... the blood...

"Peter, wake up!"

Peter shoots up straight on the couch, nearly head butting the figure standing above him.

"Whoa, take deep breaths," Tony says, rubbing the boy's shoulder. "You're safe. I'm here now. You're safe."

Peter swallows hard and says, "He tried to rape me."

Tony stills slightly at his shaky confession. He doesn't even need to ask who "he" is. He says nothing, waiting for Peter to continue.

"I didn't want to kill him, but... I was so scared. I wasn't... I couldn't think straight. He was on top of me, w-with his hand on my throat. He-He told me to beg. And the knife was... right there. I didn't mean it, Tony. I didn't."

"I know, buddy," breathes a much paler Tony. He looks as sick as Peter feels.

"I didn't want to kill anybody."

"I know, I know. But it wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. I was holding the machete," Peter is quick to correct.

"...Alright, but you did it in self defense."

Peter opens his mouth to argue, but Tony beats him to the punch.

"Yes, it was. If the government was still standing, it would hold up in a court of law. I'm the one that went to college, remember?"

"Well, yeah, but... you didn't go to law school."

"Potato, po-tah-toe, smart ass. Besides, you have to believe anything I say. I'm the only adult here."

Peter just rolls his eyes. He knows Tony is just trying to lighten the mood. It's working, but he stubbornly doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Tony sighs and runs a hand through Peter's hair. "You'll be okay, kid. Maybe not now but someday. Now, bring it in. Don't leave me hanging."

He holds out his arms, and Peter dives in for a hug. They hold onto each other for a while: Peter reveling in Tony's warmth and safety, Tony basking in Peter's presence. It's all he could ever ask for.


End file.
